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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544931">Gleaming Floors and New Professions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanderssidesoneshots/pseuds/Sanderssidesoneshots'>Sanderssidesoneshots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides Oneshots [50]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Butler, Alternate Universe - Human, Butlers, M/M, Maids, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:28:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanderssidesoneshots/pseuds/Sanderssidesoneshots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patton receives a punishment it doesn’t seem like he deserves and gets to sit in a place he also doesn’t deserve.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Creativity | Roman/Dark Creativity | Remus/Emile/Morality | Patton/Sleep | Remy/Thomas Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides Oneshots [50]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gleaming Floors and New Professions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton stood up, his back popping twice as he straightened it. He slowly bent down to pick up the bucket, rag, and towel he was working with. The floor of the grand big room he was in was now spotless.</p><p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>Patton smiled at the floor, his own reflection shining back at him in the floor. Though he didn’t <em>always</em> clean the floor, Patton was proud that he could clean it perfectly when he had to.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cleaning the floor was actually a punishment in all actuality. The task required you to bend over and kneel for the duration of the task, which would definitely be appropriately a punishment for anyone other than Patton. Patton himself didn’t mind the, almost literally, back-breaking labor, as he always got to see his smile in the floor he just worked to hard on when he was done.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His supplies in hand, Patton tore his eyes away from his own reflection in the floor, intending to report to the superior that gave him his punishment to inform him it was done.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, the moment he stepped into the hallway, he nearly ran into one of Sir Thomas’s butlers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, I do greatly apologize, Mr. Roman!” Patton exclaimed, quickly getting out of the Butlers way, shrinking back under the stern frown on the butler’s face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Mr. Prince, Patton, that is my title, you know not to address me by first name, even with my proper address. There’s only so many times you can do that before it seems intentional. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Roman curtly said, turning stiffly down the hall in the opposite direction Patton was going, marching off at a steady pace.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton was petrified for a moment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What did he mean? Did he mean the name mistake or accidentally stepping out in front of him? He had done both of those more than he would like to, but it was always an accident. Patton never liked to stir up trouble.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okay...” Patton said, despite Roman already being out of earshot.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clutching his supplies tighter to his chest, he walked briskly to his Master’s study to report back to him. The clacking of his shoes echoed in the spacious but empty corridor Patton walked down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The emptiness and the silence of the hall was overwhelming for Patton, Patton felt so small as he glanced up at the high and arched ceilings of the corridor. Patton yearned for something else to catch his attention, to fill the void of silence that made his stomach flip the longer it went on.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But for now, only the steady clacking of his shoes was there to greet his ears. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He let his thoughts wander, away from the uncomfortable silence around him and to a memory of one of the few days Patton had off from his job a year. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The feeling of a drowsy haze, lying in his cot, relaxing the whole day, only getting up for meals and to use the bathroom, not having to do anything. Those days were heaven on earth, not having to complete what was sometimes .backbreaking labor, sign Patton up!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton stopped, blinking the memory hastily away. He was at his master’s door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>When had that happened? I... really need to stop daydreaming, accidents always happen when I’m distracted.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton shook his head, trying to clear any of the mental cobwebs, which alway felt to Patton more like soft downy feathers with how comfy getting distracted was. He waited a moment more before he reached out with his free hand, turning the knob and opening the door to his Master’s study.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The moment he did, the smell of hickory wood and cinnamon, an odd combination to be frank, hit Patton in the face, or more accurately, in the nose. Patton wasn’t taken aback in the slightest though. He had had plenty of time to become accustomed to the combination of smells, enough that he barely took note of the new stimulus from his nose other then his nose instinctively flaring and then wrinkling, breathing the scent in deep.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Thomas’s study was very roomy, the room lined with bookshelves full of books and journals no one but Sir Thomas and Madame Liods could even <em>dream</em> of touching, much less reading them. The journals themselves were accounts of the Manor’s previous Masters, including Sir Thomas’s unfinished account that was on the newest and only unfilled portion of the bookshelves.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>At the desk in the center of the room sat Sir Thomas, toiling away at a sheet of paper. He was likely working on a new page of his account, but his quill paused as Patton opened the door. Sir Thomas still had on his formal outfit, having just come from a function a few hours earlier.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton brought his eyes to the ground, not making eye contact out of reverence and as his position demanded he not look unless instructed to.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Patton you are back most early, have you cleaned the foyer as I asked as your punishment?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton nodded, eyes tracing the wooden floorboards under his feet to have something visual to focus on.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Good...”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton waited for Sir Thomas to relieve him, to send him back to his daily duties like he always did, but instead he stayed silent for a long while. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton couldn’t look up to see what Sir Thomas was doing, but Patton imagined Sir Thomas was staring at him, analyzing Patton’s form for any inconsistencies, anything that signaled Patton was lying or a tell that Patton would cause trouble like Sir Thomas thought he had done to receive his punishment. Or maybe he was going over what he had written, forgetting Patton was even there. Or maybe he was just lost in thought.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Patton, raise your eyes for me.” Patton immediately complied, raising his eyes to gaze into Sir Thomas’s brown eyes. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Thomas searched Patton’s eyes, the movement of his eyes back and forth across Patton’s face causing his eyes to appear as if they were sparkling in the dim candle light from the chandelier overhead. Light shadows danced across Sir Thomas’s face, making his face change in appearance if only slightly, his face appearing as if it was rapidly changing shapes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Another long moment passed, with Patton staring awkwardly and nearly unblinkingly into Sir Thomas’s eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Thomas’s abruptly nodded, as if he had just made up his mind about something. He gestured to his left where there was a couch for Sir Thomas’s royal guests or high ranking servants to sit if he felt so inclined to let them sit. When the Head Butler had gravely injured his foot a few months back, he had been allowed to lounge on the couch without permission, as Sir Thomas was not a cruel man to let his servants suffer when they were hurt.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sit, Patton. I want to speak with you about something.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton’s whole body felt as if it was plunged into an ice bath. Sir Thomas was allowing him to sit on the couch, but his words implied something grave. Was it a mistake? Did Sir Thomas forget himself and Patton’s position? Was Patton being fired and Sir Thomas’s last courtesy was to allow him a privilege that he had not been provided? </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton’s limbs felt stiff as he quickly complied, making sure his movements did not teeter on hasty in Patton’s hurry to comply with Sir Thomas’s order.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton had dreamed of what the couch would feel like when he finally was able to sit on it, but none of his wildest imaginings could encapsulate the real deal. Too bad his emotions were churning in his stomach, making him mildly nauseous. Patton wanted to be able to completely enjoy the feeling, but the nausea spoiled it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton vaguely wondered as he sunk more and more into the couch if Sir Thomas did this with everyone he fired, lulling them into a more amicable mindset so they would be let upset when he fired them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>All Patton knew was if that was Thomas’s intention, it was most certainly working.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Thomas cleared his throat intentionally, the sound made to call attention to something.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton blinked. He had sunk back into the couch, abandoning his proper posture in the soft nature of the couch surrounding him. Patton’s vision had tilted upwards, as his head was resting on the top of the couch now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton immediately straightened, pulling his back from the back of the couch and sat at attention on the couch.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Thomas regarded Patton with unreadable but also distinctly gentle eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Patton hoped that this was not his last day of Service to the Sanders Manor. He loved it here.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So... he waited with bated breath for his final verdict.</p>
</div>
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